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Sif stepped on the accelerator, speeding past the traffic. The siren blared from the roof of the car, clearing the way as she raced against time. She glanced at the digital clock on her dashboard. 10:42. She had to hurry. If she missed this, she was never going to forgive herself. She might be a police captain, but being stuck with an emergency was only excusable up to a point. The traffic lights switched to yellow, and the engine roared as she sped past before the red light gleamed over the shadow of the car.
“Yes,” she yelled, before rushing into quieter streets. Sunday morning traffic was a dream come true. People were still too hung over from their Saturday night exploits or too busy prepping for their picture-perfect family trips to be on the road. She sped along, turning off the siren, and grinned as she found her target. She only slowed the car marginally, as she swerved into the parking lot, and with a quick stomp brought the car to a stand-still.
10:45.
Yes! She wasn’t late. Within moments she swung the car door wide open, shifting to rush off, but stopped. She turned back to the passenger seat and grabbed a dark blue carrier bag. Inside were demure heels which matched her maroon dress.
Anything else she’d forgotten? No? Okay.
She leapt out of the car and ran. The parking lot was filled with dozens of cars, ranging from run down little family cars to the latest Tesla Model S which she would bet belonged to Loki’s side of the family. Maybe not quite Loki himself.
“Someone’s cutting it a little fine,” a smug voice called, rooting her into place.
When you think of the devil.
Her hands clenched to fists around the bag, and she inhaled slowly.
Calm it, Sif. He’s not worth making a scene. You’re up for commissioner. Don’t wreck it.
She swallowed, and slowly turned on her heel.
Her one and only ex-husband stood by a discrete little side entrance to the church, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His black tuxedo glimmered in the sunlight, textured subtly with a sheen of green. He sported a lazy, smug grin, which brought out little creases around his eyes, and mouth. Time had been kind to him, and barely aged him in the last twenty years, beyond the sharpening of his cheekbones, the thin lines which edged his face, and the streaks of white in his once jet-black hair. Unfortunately, he was turning more into a silver fox, than the run-of-the-mill old man. It certainly didn’t help that his eyes sparkled with the same mischief as ever.
Sif ground her teeth.
“It’s not like you’re inside, yourself,” she retorted, stomping towards him. “I bet you just got here too.”
He chuckled and pushed himself off the wall with a slight flourish.
“I hope your detectives comes to more accurate deductions than that, Sif. Or my colleagues might get your cases dismissed from court faster than you can cuss at me.” A dangerous little smile played at the corners of his lips. “Believe it or not, I’m actually on the look-out. As it turns out you’re not the only one who is running late.”
Sif stopped short.
Who was important enough that the father of the groom was personally on look-out?
Reading her expression, Loki sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
“Magni hasn’t arrived yet with the rings, and Ullr asked me specifically to keep an eye-out for his last-second arrival.” He rolled his eyes, “Honestly, there was never a doubt about his parentage.”
“Damn it, Magni,” Sif swore. He’d always been a sweet-natured boy, his temperament taking after Jane’s fairly level-headedness when it came to most things, but his timing was always closer to Thor’s style.
Late.
Not that she could talk, but that was neither here nor there.
“Should you really be swearing next to a church?” Loki murmured, eyes dancing in wry amusement. “You might just burst into flames when you enter.”
Sif glowered at him.
“Between you and me, we both know who is more likely to catch fire on consecrated ground,” she huffed. “Heaven is a lawyer-free zone.”
“Only because they all negotiate for a special VIP area,” he said drolly.
“Keep telling yourself that…”
He grinned, baring his teeth like an animal that had not been domesticated.
“Whatever may be, right now Magni and Ullr are our main problems.”
“Wait, what’s wrong with Ullr?” her head snapped up, eyes boring into Loki.
“Nothing in particular, but you know what he can be like… Caught up in his own head…”
Sif pulled a face. She loved her son dearly, but when he got stressed… He was not particularly kind to himself.
“Who is with him?”
Loki shrugged.
“Last I checked, your mother was fussing over him, but he may just have managed to get free from her pincers,” Loki said rubbing his own cheek.
Sif grimaced. Despite being divorced for well over 15 years, her mother had somehow never been able to let go of Loki, acting like they were still family. Sif’s relationship with her hadn’t particularly improved under the constant nagging about how wonderful a son-in-law he was. From such a good family. Such a charmer. And successful to boot…
She wanted to gag, just thinking about it.
“I’ll go check on him then.” She bent down, leaning against the wall as she took her sneakers off.
Loki straightened and saluted her.
“That sounds like an excellent idea, Captain Tyrsdottir.”
She rolled her eyes. He was never going to grow up, was he?
“Where is he?”
“First door on the left,” he said stepping aside to open the door. “Astrid and her bridesmaids are in the smaller chapel and the adjoining rooms downstairs.”
“Thanks,” Sif muttered, and rushed in, barefoot.
“Good luck with your mother,” Loki chuckled, earning him a raised middle finger salute.
***
The door was ajar. Wedged wide open by a little brick on the cold stone floor. Sif peeked inside, ease finally settling over her as she saw her son. Ullr was the spitting image of Loki in his youth, even up to the slicked black hair clipped at the nape of his neck. If it weren’t for his hazel eyes and his softer mouth, she would almost insist that she’d given birth to a clone and not her own child. Where Loki’s lips sometimes seemed paper thin, Ullr had her fuller, wider lips. A kinder mouth, Loki had once called it. Whether sardonically or in earnestness, she could not remember, recalling only the sense of confusion that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Why did it matter that Loki thought of her as kind? The force at the precinct would certainly never describe her as kind. Loyal and hard-working, or grimly dedicated to the city, sure. But kind? Probably not. She’d lost her naïve, pure type of kindness somewhere along the road.
Ullr stood in a little room, surrounded by old, leather-bound hymn books and dozens of unlit candles of varying heights. In the corner opposite her, was a floor-length mirror, leaning off the shelves. Ullr stood alone, a pure picture of worry. He watched his reflection, as his right hand picked away at the palm of his left and chewed on the corner of his lip. He looked paler than usual, which said a lot. It was the same look he had as a young boy who was barely up to her waist. He would sit down or watch something, and his little mind seemed to be overwhelmed with a series of continuous realisations. Each more distressing than the previous. She would like to blame Loki for her overly concerned little boy, but they both knew that she was an equally great worrier when it came to Ullr. It didn’t matter that he was nearly thirty and a man with his own career in law, she would always worry about her little boy.
“Ullr,” she called, stepping in and setting down both pairs of shoes.
He looked around, his eyes growing large as recognition dawned, drawing him out of his reverie.
“Mum?” he whispered, “You made it.” He turned to fully face her and crossed the distance between them in two strides. His mile-long arms wound around her in a tight hug. “Thank God you made it,” he whispered, his voice taking on a child-like quality.
She squeezed him back and kissed his cheek, before pulling back to look up at her giant of a son.
“Of course,” she smiled, cupping his face. He was a little cold, but whether that was nerves or the bad circulation that ran through Loki’s side of the family was unclear. “There is nothing is the world that could have kept me away today. My baby’s getting married.” “Mum…” he blushed. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
“You’ll always be a baby to me,” Sif said. “Even when you have your own babies, and they have their own babies.”
“Muum,” he groaned, more red creeping up his cheeks.
“Too soon?” she laughed, grinning wolfishly.
“We’re not even married yet,” he mumbled.
“Are you saying that I can repeat it in an hour and it will be fine then?” she laughed, stepping away to retrieve her heels.
“Please don’t make this more nerve-wracking than it already is,” he muttered, grabbing a chair from the corner of the room. She took a seat and strapped the shoes on. They weren’t hopelessly tall and slim like the ones she’d sometimes wear in her youth. They were moderate heels with soft soles that she knew wouldn’t bite into her or reduce her mobility. She was going to dance today and celebrate. It had been too long since there had been an occasion to.
“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking up as he hovered by her side, hand resting on the chair.
He worried his lip and nodded.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ullr. Relax, it’s going to be a beautiful day. You’re getting married.”
He looked unconvinced, and turned away, facing the mirror again. He too wore a black tux, but the top button was undone, and his tie drooped out of his pocket. He looked at the reflection of his ring finger and stroked it.
“Mum? Can I ask you something personal?” His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent Sif couldn’t quite pin.
“Perso-?” She composed herself and smoothed her dress. “Yes, of course. What is it?”
He hummed, a strangled noise as he debated with himself whether-or-not to ask. But it was too late now. He looked down at the floor and inspected his shoes with great interest.
“Do you…” He cleared his throat. “Do you… ever regret getting married?”
She blinked. She stared at his back, eyes growing wide. Where the hell was this coming from? Of course, she regretted that things had ended in a trash-fire, since both her and Loki were stubborn mules who couldn’t communicate to save their lives. Of course, she regretted that things had slipped away as neither of them knew how to deal with the other’s issues. Of course, she regretted that she had found that the only healthy thing she could do for their family was to let the love of her life go. But did she regret what they’d had? That they’d been in love? That they’d supported each other, and grew together, and raised a wonderful, brilliant, sweet human being together? No. She loved Ullr with all her heart, and if nothing else good had come out of her marriage, it would have been enough to have had him.
“I…”
“Of course, she does,” Loki said, appearing in the doorway and casting a long shadow across the room. “She married me, after all. Who wouldn’t?”
“Dad…” Ullr grimaced, clearly not getting the answer he’d hoped for.
“But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if either of us regret getting married. Today is not about us. It’s about you and Astrid. You love each other, you have each other’s backs, and you mean the world to each other.”
Ullr looked away, but Loki rest his hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back to his father.
“I know, I just… I feel a little… lost. What if I’m not the right one for her? What if I’m not her soulmate and can’t make her happy, dad?” His face crumbled, a thousand agonising thoughts crushing his spirit. “What if I mess up and she regrets marrying me and hates me for the rest of our lives?”
Sif flinched.
“I-I don’t want that for Astrid. I love her. I love her so much, but thinking about the future and all the uncertainty… I just feel so powerless.”
He wrapped his arms around his own waist as if he was trying to hold himself together. He took slow, deep breaths, his eyes smarting with tears.
“Well,” Loki rest his other hand on the other shoulder and squeezed. “It’s something you’ll just have to risk.”
“But-“
“Listen, I know your mum and I are not really a great example of marriages ending in bliss,” Loki sighed, “But I can honestly say that, if I could go back in time and do it all again, I would. Sure, I might try to change the way I reacted sometimes, and maybe not egg your mum on quite as much, but I would want our family all over again.”
Ullr sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“We all make mistakes and have regrets, but it is so much better to regret the things you have done than the things you haven’t,” Loki said, giving his son a lopsided smile. “It’s a fool’s game trying to wait for soulmates to show up and trying to predict the future. There is no perfect person, and no matter how hard we try, the future is out of our grasp. The most we can do is try our best with the people who matter and hope it’s enough.”
Sif stared at Loki’s reflection, watching the micro-expressions play out on his face as he spoke. There was no trace of humour or irony or insincerity. His eyes locked on Ullr’s with a raw intensity that promised candour, and for a moment, even the reflected intensity took her breath away.
Ullr nodded, continuing to wipe his eyes, but the tension was gone from his posture.
Loki clasped his hand around the back of Ullr’s neck, and pulled him into a hug.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered into his ear. “The most important thing to remember is that you love her.”
Ullr nodded, and pulled away a little.
“Thanks, dad,” he murmured, a smile finally touching his lips.
“Good,” Loki declared. “Now that that’s sorted, how about you fix that tie of yours and get married. I can’t wait to finally have a daughter. I always wanted a litter of children,” Loki shot Sif a sidelong glance, “but a litter of grandchildren will do too.”
“You should’ve remarried if you wanted more,” Sif huffed, getting up. “I’m sure one of your many floozies would have been up for the task.”
“And yet I only ever found one floozy I wanted to raise a child with,” Loki chuckled, letting go of Ullr.
Her cheeks grew warm and she thumped his shoulder, causing his grin to only grow wider.
“I’m not a floozy.”
“No, you’re not,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’ve always been far too loyal for such a title. Maybe a dog might be a better description,” he laughed, leaping out of her arm’s length as a fist shot out at him.
“Dad…” Ullr said, stepping between them, trying hard to suppress a smile.
“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” Loki chuckled, his eyes twinkling in delight.
She scowled at him, and reigned herself in. She jutted her chin out and stared him down, neither of them willing to look away.
“Erm… okay…” Ullr looked between them. “Hey, dad? Did you hear back from Magni?”
“Ah, yes. The rings.” He smirked at Sif, like he knew a secret she was not privy to. He turned to Ullr. “Magni said there was a problem at the jewellers, and that the rings aren’t ready.”
“What?” Both Ullr and Sif yelled in unison.
“It’s fine,” Loki waved it off.
“How can it be fine? I’m getting married and there are no rings! There’s a specific part of the ceremony where you exchange them, in case you forgot.”
Loki rolled his eyes and reached inside his breast-pocket pulling out a little jewellery box.
Sif froze. She knew this box. She looked between it and the scar above Loki’s eyebrow. The scar she’d created when she’d lobbed the box and its contents at his head, just before filing for the divorce.
Loki opened the little box, revealing two gold rings seated in the red satin lining.
Loki’s and Sif’s wedding rings.
Sif’s mouth grew dry. She thought he’d sold them or gotten rid of them after the divorce. But here they were, the same two bands they’d worn for years as a sign of their love. A love that hadn’t been enough at the time.
“Dad…?”
“You can change the engravings after the ceremony, or give them back if you’d rather have the rings you picked out… but they’re your heirlooms anyway, so you might as well have them.”
He closed the box and pressed it into Ullr’s hand.
“Dad… I-“ Ullr swallowed, struggling to find words. He eventually bobbed his head and murmured a quiet, “Thank you.”
He watched his son for a moment, a warm pride welling in him, as he remembered why they were here.
“Now that everything’s taken care of, how about we start this wedding? You wouldn’t want to keep Astrid waiting. I certainly don’t want to face Val’s wrath,” Loki shuddered, “You couldn’t have chosen a scarier mother-in-law.”
Ullr glanced at his watch.
11:05.
“We’re late! Astrid’s going to murder me,” Ullr gasped, reaching for his tie with shaking hands.
“It’s fine, we’ll take care of the tie and your dad will tell everyone we’ll be right on our way,” Sif said.
“I promise, once I’m done talking to them, they’ll all just think they were early,” Loki snickered, and hurried off.
****
The ceremony was beautiful.
Astrid walked down the aisle, with both her mothers, Brunhilde and Val, on either side. She was a vision in white, her umber skin glowing as she locked eyes with Ullr. Sif couldn’t help grinning like a loon as she saw the nerves disappear from her little boy’s face, only to be replaced by unbridled joy.
“We’ve done at least one thing right,” Loki whispered from over her shoulder, gazing at the couple, as Val put Astrid’s hand in Ullr’s.
“I don’t know how we managed to not screw him up,” Sif whispered back, turning a little and glancing up at Loki.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“It must have been your side of the gene-pool,” he murmured. “Mine is 100% fucked up.”
She shot him a look. There was a time when he wouldn’t have joked about the most traumatic event in his life, but things had evidently changed. It hadn’t been easy for him to find out he was adopted, let alone to accept his new identity as the rejected child of drug addicts. The death knell had come when they'd refused contact when he finally tried to get in touch. It had thoroughly broken him. He cut himself off and pulled away from everyone, not talking to anyone, let alone Sif, about anything that was on his mind. The only person with whom his relationship had changed for the better was Ullr, and that probably came from a need to prove himself a better father than both of his.
“Who’s the one swearing in a church now?” Sif asked quickly, hooking her arm with his. Deflection was the way to go.
He glanced at their intertwined limbs for a moment of unreadable contemplation, before he looked away, turning his attention back to the bride and groom.
“I haven’t caught fire yet,” he remarked, and left it at that.
They listened as the vows were read and watched the two lovebirds exchange the rings. Their rings. Loki couldn’t help but steal a glance. Sif looked happy. Content even. Life without him had treated her well, with only their occasional interactions ever since Ullr left the nest. Their shared custody agreement had promised them a biweekly interaction in the beginning, and though they were often laced with dark humour and volatility, he had missed those moments of friction. He had missed their life together. He had missed her. It was nice to see her again so often for all the wedding planning. But that too was coming to an end.
As all good things were won’t to do.
The church burst into applause, and Loki tore his eyes away from Sif. The newlyweds were sharing their first kiss. The applause reverberated through the old church, and the moment only became more perfect as sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, bathing everyone in colourful lights. Ullr’s eyes smarted with tears, and he wound his arms around Astrid, completely enamoured by his wife.
“Our baby’s married,” Sif exhaled, unable to hide her awe. The happy couple, disengaged slowly, blushing as they remembered their audience. They waved as they walked back up the aisle, out into a new world.
“Where did the years go?” Loki hummed, longing lacing his voice.
Sif’s eyes flashed to him, and she looked down at their still intertwined arms. Years ago they had brought each other so much joy and bliss. But their impetuousness and their difficult tempers and moods had spelled the death of their marriage. But now, here they were again. Small skirmishes, small battles, but joy and comfort, and understanding. Neither of them had tried to marry again, and neither had found a more ‘right’ partner. But maybe Loki was right. The perfect person simply wasn’t out there. Maybe they just needed time and patience to become better people, to become more patient people, to become more loving people. She watched him now, the softer, more mellow version of the man she’d thrown the ring at, and knew they’d both changed. Probably for the better.
The congregation started to filter out through the open double doors, but Sif stood still, holding him back.
“Did you mean what you said before?” she asked, a mix of fear and excitement fusing in her stomach. Perhaps it wasn’t too late yet. Maybe things could still be saved after all these years.
He furrowed his brow.
“I say many things, Sif. You’ll need to be more specific…” His words carried no bite, only hesitance. Surely this was a moment to be out there with their son? Was there something else he’d forgotten about?
“Would you really do it all again?” she asked, holding his arm captive as she squared her shoulders and used her police captain voice. “If you had a second chance?”
Shock flitted across Loki’s face, before an impassive mask took its place.
“There are some things that can’t be changed,” he said softly, working his jaw. “The past is one of them.”
She narrowed her eyes. That was a paper-thin excuse.
“Then why did you keep our rings? Surely you couldn’t have foreseen that Ullr would need them.”
He said nothing, his lips pinching into a line.
She tried to read him, but he gave nothing away. Maybe he had meant nothing by any of the things he’d said. Maybe he’d just been strolling down memory lane because there was a wedding. Maybe none of what he said meant anything at all.
“Fine,” her shoulders slumped, and she tried to extricate her arm from his. “Nevermind. I think I’ve been spending too much time with Ullr. My imagination is out of control-”
He clutched her arm.
“What did you mean with ‘second chance’?” Loki asked. His eyes burnt green. “A second chance in the past, or the future?”
“In the present,” she amended, her voice just above a whisper. She held her breath. A series of emotions flit across his face: hope, joy, pain, worry, and disbelief.
“Where is this coming from?” he asked at last, his voice equally quiet. “You barely tolerate me. If we didn’t have Ullr we would have probably never seen each other again.”
Sif swallowed.
“That’s probably true,” she said, “But that’s not our current reality.”
“You don’t like me,” Loki remarked, straightening a little, trying to appear nonchalant. “You’ve literally tried to attack me multiple times today alone.”
“You were goading me!” she yelped, glad that the entire congregation was outside already. “You completely deserved it.”
“Maybe,” he hummed.
She shot him an unimpressed look.
“Fine. I definitely deserved it,” he chuckled. “But it’s simply too fun to rile you up. I can’t resist it.”
She beamed. The years always seemed to fall away from Sif every time she smiled. Her eyes glittered and the wrinkles around her mouth were only adding to her charm. His heart juddered as he paused, watching her watch him. For the first time in years he saw a glimmer in her eyes. A glimmer that perhaps he was not mad after all for still being hung up on the past. A glimmer of expectation. A glimmer of hope for their future.
No, their present.
“You know, I’ve never been able to forget you,” he whispered. “It was never quite right with the others. There was always something missing, and I think that’s because none of them were you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, unwilling to exhale in case it all faded away into a dream.
“This is probably coming far too late, but I am sorry. My biggest regret is hurting you. I should have just talked to you, and I’m sorry you suffered because I was an idiot. I probably still am an idiot-“
He stopped as she cupped his face with her free hand, smiling ever so softly.
“You’ll always be an idiot,” she murmured, “But…if we are given a second chance, would you want to be my idiot?”
“Without a doubt.” He turned his head ever so slightly and kissed the palm of her hand.
She sighed, revelling in the sweet tingling sensation. Her heart felt like it was about to burst. He freed her arm and pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist.
“Shall we take the risk?” he murmured, leaning down, till their faces were inches apart. She saw the small ridges of blue fleck his mossy green, and was transported back to a simpler time. A time where they were young and ambitious and the future was only full of amazing possibilities. She saw the small crinkle at the corner of his eye and smiled. The future was still full of amazing possibilities. Age did not change that in the least. She leant in, and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Well…”
She closed her eyes and fell. Fell into the kiss that had evaded them for over a decade. A sweet and tender kiss, that though brief, was more than she’d ever hoped to have again with Loki. Her Loki.
He rest his forehead against hers and sighed. Relief flooded his body, and all the tension that he hadn’t even realised was coiled within him, disappeared into nothingness. He had wanted this. He had thought about it so many times, and to have it come to life was unbelievable.
“Someone once told me,” Sif whispered, stroking the back of his neck, “That it’s much better to regret the things you’ve done than the things you haven’t.”
“Oh?” he murmured, opening his eyes only to find two warm hazel eyes trained on him. “He sounds a bit silly.”
“He is,” she whispered, humming against his lips, “But I think he may be onto something.”